


Impulse Control

by moonpenis (Reyn)



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-03-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyn/pseuds/moonpenis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin has taught Superboy how to control his impulses. How to hold back in order to make observations. How to give in to his desires without being overwhelmed by them. He doesn't really mind that Robin hasn't quite mastered these himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impulse Control

The almost-silent beep was very nearly drowned out to Superboy’s ears by Robin’s choked moan. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to do the right thing and brought his torturously slow movements to a grinding halt. One fist came to rest on the bed in an effort to gather his wits and, after blinking away a bit of sweat that trailed into his eye, Superboy was proud to note that this time his grip had not left a bruise. Yet.  
  
Dropping his head against the sheets, Robin let out a growl of frustration and took a few moments to catch his breath before bringing a shaky hand to his ear. “Yeah?”  
  
The tinned voice meant only for the wearer of the communicator wasn’t quite soft enough for Superboy’s hearing to not pick up. “ _Where are you?_ ” It was Batman.  
  
Robin’s winded chuckle did little for Superboy’s on-edge libido and his eyes trailed up to the boy’s still-masked face. “In the gym, having a friendly little spar with our resident clone,” he answered easily enough. “What’s up?”  
  
“ _End it,_ ” Batman ordered, cutting straight to the chase. “ _You both are needed in the debriefing hall._ ”  
  
Robin’s body stretched and arched almost petulantly and Superboy couldn’t stop himself from twitching. For half a second, Robin’s panting was the only sound that filled the room. “Roger,” he acknowledged lightheartedly before pressing the communicator off.  
  
Brow furrowed, Superboy did his best not to snarl as he straightened, putting his palm on Robin’s lower back and pulling out gently.  
  
In a flash, Robin’s hand was wrapped around the wrist still holding his hip. “What are you doing?” he demanded.  
  
Superboy paused, swallowing thickly at the tight sensation that was now only surrounding the most sensitive tip of his body. Struggling not to just push himself back in, he answered, “Getting ready to head to the debriefing hall.”  
  
Robin’s grip tightened and he turned his head to the side, presumably to glare at the clone. The effect was missed as all Superboy could notice was the way Robin’s sweat-soaked bangs had been messily pushed to the side. Combined with his flushed cheeks, the boy was looking thoroughly debauched. Superboy twitched again, blinking in amazement that he had somehow managed to not reach completion from the sight alone.  
  
“You call this ready?” Superboy forced himself to focus on Robin’s voice. “We’re not going anywhere until we’re done.”  
  
Short-lived relief swept through Superboy before turning into confusion. “I thought…this was about impulse control.” He didn’t know why he was complaining. He didn’t want to stop. Not now. Not ever.  
  
Robin’s laugh turned into a muffled groan as he once again buried his face into the mattress. For a moment he remained there and Superboy did his best to stay absolutely still.  
  
“Impulse control.” Robin’s head turned back to the side and his voice sounded almost defeated. “Right.”  
  
Superboy frowned in confusion, unsure of which course of action that meant he should take.  
  
Robin sighed and brought his forearm under his temple, using it to prop himself up. “At this late in the game, impulse control is going to do both of us a world of harm in the long run.” He turned to look back at Superboy and there was no mischievous smile. “Trust me.”  
  
Superboy did and knew he always would, but something stopped him from following the implied order to start moving again. The moment no long felt as right as it previously had. Lifting the hand that Robin still had a grip on, he bent the slighter boy’s arm around so that it could be brought further back, turning his own palm so their fingers could interlock. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on the back of Robin’s hand, noting the way Robin’s eyes seemed to widen.  
  
Closed-mouth kisses this far into a session were nonexistent between the both of them and a rare occurrence even at the start. After all, why bother when it was easier to stir up and tease raw physical need with sharp bites and soothing licks?  
  
Satisfied that whatever had been wrong was now fixed, Superboy released Robin’s hand and began to push forward once more, groaning at the way he was eagerly pulled back in. He tried to keep the measured pace from before, but found it difficult with Robin’s constant muscle fluctuations.  
  
“Robin…” he tried to warn, but was interrupted.  
  
“Batman wants us there now. This needs to end quickly.” Robin’s tone was strong. Commanding. Superboy still noticed the tremble in his arms, even through the irrational wave of anger at someone else’s name being brought up when they were so close to completion. Of someone else’s name being brought up at all.  
  
For the first time, Superboy refused to gratefully take the excuse for him to speed up, to let go of a little bit more of himself and be blindly lost in the instant. Instead, he stubbornly kept the pace, fingers trailing up the exposed flesh of Robin’s back.  
  
Shuddering at the sensation, Robin began to squirm. His hips moved in ways that made the edges of Superboy’s vision narrow and forced him to drop forward onto his elbows, his body curled almost protectively over the smaller boy.  
  
“Robin.” He wasn’t going to give in. He didn’t want to.  
  
“Come on, Supes. You’re going to have to move faster than that if you want either of us to finish anytime soon.”  
  
He was lying. Superboy could hear it in the desperate edge that was hidden under the mocking tone. The emotion was there. He had long ago learned where to look for it and it was ringing out to him loud and clear.  
  
Twisting his head, he forced Robin to stretch his neck to the side, giving him room to nestle against the salty skin, deeply inhaling the scent that was unique to the male.  
  
“Robin,” he breathed out imploringly, his lips and tongue pressing against the rigid tendon, ignoring the way the boy almost seemed to be trying to escape him.  
  
He had admitted once to the way Robin’s voice alone could drive him crazy. He had almost missed the “ditto” that had been hidden amongst Robin’s chuckles and quickly covered up by an immediate experiment of just how over the edge that voice could actually push him. The end results had been brutal, “but in a good way.”  
  
“Please,” Superboy begged, earning him a whimper.  
  
“Just…come for me,” Robin pleaded, his voice ragged and broken, still adamant as always about getting off last.  
  
Superboy reached underneath them, palm tracing up Robin’s inner thigh and stopping. The muscle was smooth, tense, and _trembling_. Moaning directly into Robin’s ear, he squeezed the handful of flesh.  
  
Immediately, Robin’s body went taut with an endless series of helpless cries. His passage stuttered tightly around Superboy, bringing him over the edge as well as he ground his body as deep as it could go, muting his groans into Robin’s shoulder.  
  
For a long time, neither of them moved. Superboy’s powerful aftershocks always lasted him a while and Robin enjoyed riding them out, amazed at how it would forcefully cause his own body to echo in response.  
  
It was when he felt the condom start to leak that Superboy finally pulled out, moving back so that Robin had room to turn over and watch. He didn’t understand the fascination Robin had with this less-than pleasant procedure, even after it had been explained to him that he obviously had ‘super-ejaculation’ and that normal men didn’t orgasm “for _that_ long, _that_ hard, and in _THAT_ amount.”  
  
There was a hungry longing in Robin’s expression that made Superboy wonder if his interest went past simple enthrallment over something different. He liked to believe that Robin entertained fantasies over there no longer being a condom separating them. That he was curious over what it would be like to actually feel the force of sperm hitting his inner walls. To be filled until it was leaking down his thighs, trailing over his more sensitive organs…  
  
“Pervert,” Robin teased as Superboy twitched in renewed arousal.  
  
He didn’t bother to respond, noting the way Robin was already half hard once more. Instead, he tossed the condom in the trash and stood to retrieve his clothes, pausing slightly at Robin’s soft sigh. But by the time he turned to look, the boy had already rolled over and was sorting through his own mess of clothing.  
  
They headed out together, Robin smirking at the team in greeting as Kid Flash demanded to know who kicked who’s butt.  
  
“Took you long enough,” Batman commented dryly as Robin merely high fived his friend rather than offer him a real answer.  
  
Superboy took his place at the back of the group, knowing better than to rise to the bait any of the Justice League dished out to them. Robin shrugged and asked what their new mission was.  
  
All of them recognizing an obvious dismissal of topic when there was one, they turned their attention to the large holographic screen as the Martian Manhunter began going over the perimeters of the assignment.  
  
It was probably halfway through the explanation that Superboy chanced a glance at Robin’s profile and was startled to notice that he had gone unusually stone-faced. Wondering what had caused such a reaction, he looked up to see Batman’s penetrating stare locked on the young sidekick. Deciding he didn’t like whatever silent battle was going on between the two of them, Superboy returned his gaze to the screen in false interest and took several steps forward, effectively blocking Robin from the brunt of Batman’s nonexistent laser vision.  
  
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Robin’s fist tighten and wondered if it meant the boy wanted to punch him for interfering or if he was struggling to not acknowledge his abrupt presence. The subtle movement caused Superboy to realize two very important facts. One was that Robin had not told Batman about what was going on between the two of them, which in itself was a bit shocking since the whole team was under the accepted impression that Robin told Batman everything. The second was that while Batman may not have known, he was well aware that _something_ was going on, and judging by the reaction between the two, had been aware for quite some time despite Robin’s obvious refusal to reveal anything.  
  
Looking down at the floor, Superboy found himself wondering for the first time just what impulse it was that Robin was fighting to control.

**Author's Note:**

> Of all the Superboy/Robin fics I've written, this is probably my favorite. The funny thing about this is that so many people have told me different interpretations of Dick's emotions, that I kind of feel like I failed on that front. My intention was that while Robin was teaching Superboy how to control his impulses to the point where he wouldn't storm around punching babies (through the clever outlet of sex), Dick lost control of his own impulses, especially on the emotional front. He lost sight of the original purpose to their games, and while Superboy still remembers their original purpose, his emotions are on the same level as Dick's -- he's just more apt to accepting them.


End file.
